Into the Inferno
by harrys-sad-fish
Summary: Voldemort rescues Harry from the cruelty of the Dursleys.
1. Default Chapter

INTO THE INFERNO (or Voldemort rescues Harry from the Dursleys)  
  
Voldemort snuck stealthily up Privet Drive. He truly had no reason for Stealth. He could destroy everyone who lived on this street with a spell, but he preferred to operate with Stealth. It just suited him.  
  
He was wearing all black. Ninja gear. In fact, he carried a Samarai Sword that he used on special occasions when he wanted to chop off someone's head. He liked the sturdy feel of throbbing metal in his hands. It made him feel very, very special.  
  
Tonight he was on a special mission. He was here to kill his arch-nemesis once and for all. He was here...  
  
To Destroy Harry Potter.  
  
He went to Harry's house and peered in the window there.  
  
"GO TO YOUR CUPBOARD!" screamed a skinny woman. He vaguely recalled her being named Aunt Jemima or something, but it was difficult to focus his thoughts because he was suddenly having an LSD flashback. He missed the 60s. He vowed he would reclaim the hippie spirit after he'd murdered all his enemies. He truly would. Just as his arch-nemesis had a jagged lightning scar on his forehead, Voldemort had a jagged peace sign carved into his forehead, beneath his mass of hair where no one could see it. In his case, it had been caused by a tragic car accident and Voldemort had taken it as a sign from Allah; it inspired him every day to cleanse the world of Muggles and other annoyances.  
  
Harry Potter came running out of nowhere, tears dripping so copiously down his face that Voldemort could see it from outside.  
  
"YOU'RE NOT GOING TO YOUR CUPBOARD FAST ENOUGH!" screamed a man, emerging behind Harry Potter, holding a rake aloft to strike the boy with.  
  
Harry tripped and sprawled on the floor, entirely at his uncle's mercy. "Please--"  
  
The rake caught him full in the face, leaving bleeding gashes of broken skin in its wake. Harry grunted, but did not cry out. His eyes raised, flashing defiantly, challenging his uncle to dare meddle with his unbroken spirit again.  
  
His Uncle Vernon did indeed, dare meddle.  
  
Voldemort winced as the rake swung down again, this time nearly severing Harry's arm. The boy's face crumpled with pain as his spirit broke due to his uncle's meddling, and he crawled pitifully under a mysterious table to hide.  
  
"That'll teach the boy!" Uncle Vernon crowed triumphantly.  
  
As much as Voldemort hated Potter, his blood suddenly burned though his veins like liquid lightning. This man was an inhuman waste of space, a walking peice of rotting garbage, a cabbage left outside the freezer for six days on end. Voldemort loathed him.  
  
Uncle Vernon turned away, grinning ear to ear. His son came in and grinned at Harry, cowering under the table like a frightened maggot.  
  
"Yeah, cower under the table!" Dudley cried. "Cower like a frightened maggot!"  
  
Harry flinched back against the wall, his shoulders shaking with his shuddering sobs, and suddenly...  
  
Voldemort had had enough.  
  
He busted through the window, Samarai sword aloft.  
  
"WHO WANTS TO TAKE ME ON, BITCHES!?"  
  
Uncle Vernon screamed, and grabbed the rake. Voldemort was too fast for him, and drove the sword straight through the rake and into the wall.  
  
"NOOOO!" screamed Vernon. "I am disarmed now! And helpless!"  
  
Harry was staring in disbelief. His arch enemy had just killed his uncle's rake.  
  
Voldemort whirled on him with a flash of crimson and saffire. "You!" he screamed, pointing at Harry with a trembling finger.  
  
Harry was terrified. He had no wand; Vernon had locked it in the trunk. He was going to die!  
  
"You will come with me," Voldemort said with barely leashed fury. "You need not remain with this human excrement any longer!"  
  
Grabbing Harry's hand, Voldemort pulled him from under the table and plopped him onto his broom.  
  
"Giddyup!" Voldemort screamed, and the broom surged off into the night sky.  
  
Halfway to Hogwarts, Voldemort cried, "Crikey, we forgot your things!" And whirled the broom back around.  
  
They returned to find Aunt Petunia already donning Hedwig-stockings, Dudley meditating in Harry's robes, and Vernon combing his hair with Harry's broom.  
  
"E PLURIBUS UNUM!" screamed Voldemort, turning them all into voles. Except for Dudley, who was a lemur.  
  
"Now we are off!" Voldemort cried, grabbing Harry's things with one hand, Harry with another, and his broom with the other hand. He then reached out and grabbed his wand, giving it one brief twirl.  
  
TBC 


	2. two

CHAPTER TWO  
  
Harry was slightly weirded out. His arch-nemesis had just rescued him from his evil step-family. And now he was flying him to Hogwarts. To Dumbledore?  
  
"Um... What are you going to do with me?" Harry asked.  
  
"I was filled with pity at the spectacle of you being beaten by a rake," Voldemort informed him sadly, his voice whipping away in the wind as they plunged through the night sky on their broomsticks. "For so long, I've been evil, Harry. Now--" he glanced back at Harry with a solemn and determined expression, "I will be good."  
  
Harry was still a bit weirded out.  
  
"Yes, good! Like a nun!" The Dark Lord turned forward again, watching Hogwarts creep towards them from the horizon. "You see, Harry, I realized in that moment how very pitiful it was for me to see a ten-year-old boy as an arch-nemesis--"  
  
"Dude, I'm sixteen."  
  
"--so I vowed then not to murder any more of your friends and to make peace with Dumbledore."  
  
Harry accepted this explanation, and settled into the ride. Perhaps the terrible Lord Voldemort wasn't so bad after all.  
  
They arrived at Hogwarts, and Voldemort immediately grabbed Harry's hand and walked with him to Dumbledore's office. The Headmaster took one look at them, and immediately stopped writing his letter to his Aunt Gertrude.  
  
"What in the-- Harry, you're alright!"  
  
"I am!" Harry said, rushing to Dumbledore in a swirl of ermine and silk. "Voldemort rescued me."  
  
"Voldemort..?" Dumbledore looked at the other man wonderingly. Harry couldn't help but notice the butcher knife Dumbledore had grasped reflexively upon the other man's entrac.e  
  
"That's right," Voldemort said solemnly. "I've decided to be good now. And I want a job."  
  
"As what?" Dumbledore inquired.  
  
"Defense against the Dark Arts teacher." Voldemort shrugged elegantly. "I want to give something back for all that I have taken. Perhaps I can prevent others from being murdered by people like me."  
  
"Well, you're certainly qualified," Dumbledore said with a chuckle. "What the hell. You're hired!"  
  
Dumbledore clasped Voldemort's hand, and Harry felt his scar glow with happiness.  
  
"My scar's happy." He turned to Voldemort. "You must be very happy."  
  
"I am, Harry. I am indeed," Voldemort confirmed. He smiled back and forth between Harry and Dumbledore. "Peace will reign at last. And it's all thanks to Vernon Dursley."  
  
The three laughed, and walked off to drink some tea.  
  
THE END 


End file.
